


Scars

by Starofwinter



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-29 05:56:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8477881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starofwinter/pseuds/Starofwinter
Summary: Killer knows how to cope with his anxiety.  That doesn't mean it's a good way to cope.





	

The sharp inhale is Killer’s first indication that he’s not alone, and he nearly jumps out of his skin, turning around with wide eyes to see Kix standing in the doorway to the ‘freshers with a horrified expression.   “Where did you get those?” the medic asks, and Killer looks down at himself, “Those scars.”

It was the one question he hadn’t expected, and he doesn’t have a good answer for.  He hesitates and says quietly, “It’s nothing, sir.”  The thin lines run down his arms and hips, disappearing beneath his pants, but they continue in neat little rows down his legs.  They’re in varying stages of healing - the oldest ones are long since scarred over, the newest ones are scabbed over and flaking old blood.  He’s careful with them; he can’t afford an infection.  There’s one or two for every live fire exercise, every sim he’s run.  He can count his life in the lines he’s carved into his own skin.

“It’s more than nothing.  If you’re worried I’m going to tell anybody, it’s medic-patient privilege.  Nobody else has to know.”  There’s a line of worry between Kix’s brows, and he goes to sit down on one of the benches along the wall while Killer shrugs on a shirt.

He shrugs a little, trying to ignore the way his heart skips a beat and his hands start to shake.  How can he explain his defect, without being decommissioned or reconditioned for it?  He doesn’t want to go back to Kamino, not when he’s just escaped, even if they were just sending him out to get killed.  “I- I just get a little nervous before battle, that’s all.  It’s not a big deal.  It helps me focus and fight, sir.  I’m always careful, I don’t want to be too damaged to operate properly in battle.”  He can hear his voice get shakier as he speaks, and he tries not to trip over his words as he fights to get them out.  Kix doesn’t _look_ angry with him, so maybe he understands better than he expected.

“Oh, vod’ika,” Kix sighs, and he looks… sad?  Why the hells would he look _sad_?  “Hey, it’s alright.  What do you mean, you get nervous?  Maybe I can help you out, without you having to add to that collection.”  

Killer crosses his arms over his chest, covered by his blacks now, trying to hide how bad his hands are shaking.  “I just-  I don’t-” the look in Kix’s eyes prompts him to lay it all out on the table, and he begs his ancestors to keep this from being a mistake, “I don’t _like_ fighting, not like I’m supposed to - I don’t like killing, even if it’s droids.  Don’t know why.  's where I got my name.  Instructors thought it was _funny_.”  He can feel his breath hitching just talking about it, and he flinches when Kix stands.

Kix holds up his hands.  “It’s alright.  Killer- it’s Killer, right?  You came in with the new batch?” he waits for a shaky nod, “It’s okay.  Can I come closer?”

He weighs his options before nodding, his eyes darting toward the door.  The sudden movement, combined with what they were talking about, had spooked him, but he was okay.  Kix was an officer, but he wasn’t an instructor, he couldn’t punish him the same way.  It was okay.  “Yes.”  

Kix reaches out slowly, resting a hand on the back of his neck.  “Easy, now.  Breathe with me.  In and out,” the pressure and contact steadies him enough to let out a slow breath, following Kix’s example, “That’s good, just like that.”   They stay like that for a couple of minutes, until he’s stopped shaking.

“Are you going to turn me in?” he asks quietly, when he can speak again.  He sort of expects it, he’s a _defect_.  

Kix just shakes his head and looks a little horrified at the idea.  “No, vod’ika, _no_.  Nobody’s turning you in for anything, alright?  I’m going to find a way to help you, I promise.”  His voice is certain, and at least for now, Killer will trust him.  


End file.
